


Defending your Death

by lachme



Category: Real Person Fiction, Supernatural
Genre: AU Fiction, Gen, Mass Murderers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 17:26:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachme/pseuds/lachme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set mid-seventh season. Sam and Dean investigate a haunting at an infamous location in Colorado.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Defending your Death

Principal Leyland had just finished his paperwork for the day when Mrs. Ling, the chemistry teacher, knocked on his door. He sighed. It was already past six, and he’d skipped lunch that day. Leyland polished his glasses and thought idly about the lasagna his wife was preparing for dinner while Mrs. Ling told him her concerns. When she had finished, he just shook his head.

“Now, Sylvia, I think you’re getting all worked up over nothing,” he said mildly. “It’s late, and we should both be heading home. Can I walk you out?”

Mrs. Ling scowled as the principal escorted her to the exit. “I’m telling you, David, those girls are not runaways! Tara just got a full ride to State; it’s all she’s talked about lately. And Angie! I’ve known her since she was ten years old, and she’s never skipped a day of class in her life, much less—“

“Syl, we have no idea what’s going on in the home lives of those girls—“

“The Papineau’s are good people!” Mrs. Ling exclaimed defensively. “They go to my church!” 

“All we can do is teach these kids, Syl,” Principal Leyland said tiredly. “We can’t parent them as well. I’m sorry, but there’s really nothing we can do.” Mrs. Ling looked unconvinced as Leyland unlocked the door and held it open for her. “I know how hard it is, but we can’t reach all of them. The police don’t think—“

“I know those girls,” Mrs. Ling insisted quietly. “They would not just leave. Something has happened to them.”

Leyland put one hand comfortingly on her shoulder. “Go home, Sylvia. Everything is going to be fine, you’ll see. They’ll probably be back before Friday. You should try not to worry so much—you’re going to give yourself an ulcer.” He patted his pocket. “Oops—forgot my car keys. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Principal Leyland re-locked the door behind Mrs. Ling and returned to his office. He sat at his desk and quickly organized the papers still there, and then turned and opened the file cabinet behind him. As he filed the papers, he suddenly had the eeriest feeling of being watched. He whirled around suddenly. There was no one in the office besides him, but the feeling of being watched persisted, and grew into dread as the hair on his arms and the back of his neck began to rise. The room had become quite cold, and the principal’s breath plumed out of his mouth as his heart rate began to rise. 

There was a soft, rustling noise that drew Principal Leyland’s attention. He watched in shock as his silver letter opener began to rise slowly out of the jar of pens and pencils he kept on his desk. The letter opener rose until it was level with his eyes and then hung there suspended for a moment while the principal stared in wonder. Then it flipped itself in midair and drove forward, embedding itself into the amazed principal’s chest. 

\-----------------------------

Dean was sitting in front of the laptop in a nondescript motel room in The Dalles, Oregon, idly surfing the internet for Asian cartoon porn and waiting for Sam. With the Leviathan still on the loose and Dick Roman buying food manufacturers by the boatload, they were being careful about supplies. Sam had left an hour before with the stated intent of finding food that was safe to eat as well as good for them. Dean’s suggestion that they could live on Vietnam era C-rations indefinitely had been ignored with dignity. Dean was bored and hungry, so when Sam returned with only a newspaper tucked under one arm and a preoccupied look on his face, he was disappointed. 

“I thought you were getting us food, dude,” Dean complained. “I’m not starving to death so you can keep your girlish figure.”

Sam looked pointedly at several candy bar wrappers lying on the table beside the laptop. “Hey, I got those from the machine by the office,” Dean responded defensively. “They have to be at least a year old, so they should be safe.” Sam just flapped one hand dismissively and seated himself at the table across from his brother. He laid the papers on the table in front of him.

“Dean, I think I found something. There are some disappearances at a high school in Colorado being blamed on ghosts.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Didn’t we just finish a job yesterday?” he exclaimed. “Washington State, nest of vamps, cloud cover all day—ringing any bells?”

“So?” his brother replied with a frown. “Whatever happened to ‘the family business’ guy who was all about the job? You know, the one who couldn’t even make time to see the Grand Canyon last time we were in Arizona.”

“You’ve seen the Grand Canyon at least five times, Sammy. How many times do you need to look at a hole in the ground?”

“That’s not the point, Dean—“

“You’re right,” Dean interrupted. “I don't know what your point is, but MY point is it’s okay to take a break every now and then. Kick back, relax, have a couple of beers, maybe watch a football game. Give this job to Garth; let him check it out.”

Sam should his head. “I think we might want to check this one out ourselves, Dean. Look where it is.” He flipped the newspaper over and slid it across the table for Dean to see. The paper was one of those trashy rags seen in grocery store check-out lines, and the headline seemed to scream off the page. Dean’s jaw dropped. The headline read, “COLUMBINE KILLERS BACK AS GHOSTS!” 

“Columbine High School?” he exclaimed. He rubbed his hand over his face. “Jesus!” 

Sam nodded. “Yeah, I know,” he agreed. 

Dean frowned thoughtfully and picked up the paper. “I remember you were totally obsessed with the Columbine massacre when it happened,” he commented as he flipped through the paper to the relevant page and began to skim the article. “You wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks.”

“Can you blame me?” Sam exclaimed, spreading his hands. “I was the same age as the shooters when it happened! You even went to Columbine High for a couple of weeks in ‘ninety-five while Dad was working that haunted hotel job.”

“That was years before the shooting, dude,” Dean replied.

“I know,” Sam conceded. “But still—those guys, Harris and Klebold? The shooters? I was just like them then.” Dean closed the newspaper abruptly and scowled at his brother. 

“ That’s crap, Sam,” he stated with authority. “There’s no way you’d have gone postal on civilians.” Sam just shook his head and shrugged. 

“I don’t know, Dean. I was bullied, just like those two. I didn’t have any friends, either. And I’d get so angry sometimes...” Sam seemed to drift off in his thoughts, and his face became sad. “I may not have done anything like that, but I understood the impulse at the time.” He cast a sidelong glance at his brother. “I still do.”

Dean was outraged. “Are you telling me you sympathized with those psychos?” he exclaimed. Sam lips tightened, and he nodded again. 

“I’m saying I know how they felt, yeah,” he admitted. “They were angry. Maybe they’re still angry.”

Dean drummed his fingers on the table in annoyance. He hated it when Sam talked about his darker impulses; it was the one thing that could still make Dean feel afraid. “If there are ghosts at Columbine,” he conceded, “they might not be the shooters. They might just be vengeful spirits of the victims, looking for payback.”

Sam tapped the newspaper. “I don’t think so. According to the article, ghost sightings have been reported at Columbine at least a dozen times over the years since, and witness descriptions have always matched Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold.” Sam reopened the paper and gestured at the article. “Authorities always wrote the sightings off as high school pranks until students started disappearing—five in the past three months.” 

“Five teen-agers, huh?" Dean looked hopeful. "How can you be sure they’re not just runaways?” he asked.

Sam shrugged. “Might be. Only one way to find out,” he replied. 

Dean sighed in resignation. “Fine, we’ll check it out,” he agreed gloomily. He raised one eyebrow at his brother. “Maybe afterwards, we can even find time to visit the Grand Canyon...AGAIN.”

**Author's Note:**

> First of probably four chapters. If you enjoy my writing, feel free to check out my first novel, Becoming Unbroken, available through Kindle on Amazon-- link below. 
> 
> http://www.amazon.com/Becoming-Unbroken-Laura-Munger-ebook/dp/B008OKVXR2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1383775788&sr=8-1&keywords=becoming+unbroken


End file.
